


Trashy Lesbians: The Play

by GinAndCats



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fem!Everyone, I promise, JUST, Lesbian, SO GAY, i mean it so many swears, so so gay, trash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-01-24 20:48:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1616546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinAndCats/pseuds/GinAndCats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a straight up re-write of William Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet"</p><p>-Every character is now female, no explanation for this will be given</p><p>-I'm gonna sub write the hell outta some trashy Mercutio x Tybalt</p><p>-100% guarantee that every fifth word will be a swear or your money back</p><p>-I promise this will be as trashy, gay, and verbally offensive as I can write</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> Strap in your seatbelts folks lets start this crazy ride!
> 
> (just to be clear, I love R+J, no offense to anyone is meant by this satirical piece)

In the beautiful town of Verona, two households fuck so much shit up.  
Like, they act like they own the town, everyone's affected by their fucking blood feud.  
And everyone just goes around killing people! And they call themselves civilized!  
And the little demon spawns of these fucking houses fall in love like the dumb babies they are.  
And then commit mutual suicide.  
And then everyone stops fighting?????  
So like, now we're gonna read about how much their families hate each other, how in love they were, and how much their death sucked.  
That's whats probably gonna happen but I don't know  
Find out for yourself.


	2. Act one Scene one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Act one Scene one of R+J

[Enter Sampsa and Georgia] 

Sampsa: I’m not gonna take their shit! They can’t just make fun of us like that!  
Georgia: Of course not, that’d make us shit.  
Sampsa: You are so not funny. How about we kill them next time we get angry?  
Georgia: Maybe you should check yourself before you wreck yourself.  
Sampsa: Oh, I’m dangerous when I’m angry.  
Georgia: You’re as angry as a fucking baby.  
Samosa: I can get angry at those Montague bitches!  
Georgia: Yeah, then you’d run away like the wimp you are.  
Sampsa: Those bitches make me angry enough to fight. I’ll make them walk in the gutter!  
Georgia: You are so stupid.  
Sampsa: I’ll push them into the streets and the gutters!  
Georgia: The fight’s between our masters, and us, the lowly little shits who work for them.  
Sampsa: Same difference. I’ll fight them, and then be nice to them! I’ll fucking get them!  
Georgia: You mean you’re gonna rape them?  
Sampsa: Kill them, rape them; whatever.  
Georgia: It’ll matter to them.  
Sampsa: Oh, it’ll matter to them! I’m great in bed!  
Georgia: Sure you are.  
. [Enter Abra and other Montagues]  
. Op, get your sword, here come your bitches.  
Sampsa: I’ve got my sword out, you go first. I got your back.  
Georgia: Are you going to run away?  
Sampsa: Don’t worry about me.  
Georgia: I am worried about you!  
Sampsa: Okay, fine, let them start. Then we technically won’t be breaking the law.  
Georgia: How about I just make a bitch-face at them?  
Sampsa: I’ll flip them the bird [Raises middle finger]  
Abra: Hey, is that for me, punk?  
Sampsa: Well it is for someone.  
Abra: Is it for me?  
Sampsa: (to Georgia) If I say yes is the law on my side?  
Georgia: (to Sampsa) No  
Sampsa: (to Abra) No it’s not for you, but it is for someone.  
Georgia: Are you trying to start a fight?  
Abra: A fight? Nope.  
Sampsa: If you want to fight, I’m right here. Our masters are equals.  
Abra: Mine is better.  
Samosa: Rude.  
. [Enter Benvolia]  
. Georgia: (to Sampsa) My bosses cousin is coming, say something cool!  
Sampsa: No, mine is better.  
Abra: Liar.  
Sampsa: Fight me. Georgia, don’t fuck up.  
. [They fight]  
. Benvolia: [pulls out sword] Break it up, break it up. You could hurt someone with those. What the hell are you even doing?  
. [Enter Tybalta]  
. Tybalta: Huh? You took your sword out to fight with these lowlifes? Turn that cute caboose around, Benvolia, and look into the eyes of the woman who’s going to kill you.  
Benvolia: I’m trying to stop the fight. Either help me or leave.  
Tybalta: Peace? But you have your sword out. I hate peace and I hate hell and I hate Montagues and I hate you. Let’s fight bitch.  
. [Benvolia and Tybalta fight. Some commoners join in.]  
. Commoners: Yeah, hit her! Right in the boob! Fuck both of you!!!  
. [Enter Madam Capulet and Lady Capulet]  
. Madam Capulet: What’s happening? Someone fight me.  
Lady Capulet: You need a crutch, not a sword.  
. [Enter Madam Montague and Lady Montague]  
. Madam Capulet: But I want a sword. I mean look, that old hag Madam Montague is here, being all smug and shit.  
Madam Montague: You bitch! (Lady Montague holds her back) let me go!!  
Lady Montague: You are not taking one step in that direction, nuh-uh.  
. [Enter Princess Escala with escort]  
. Princess Escala: What the actual fuck guys? You can’t just fucking kill people in the streets! You, and you in the unflattering dress- you’re fucking animals. Shit’s gonna hit the fan if you don’t listen to me. (Montague, Capulet, and everyone else throw down swords) Three times girls, three times. And it’s all because of the fucking Montagues and Capulets. I swear on mi mum, if you ever do this again, I’ll fucking kill all you little sluts. Madam Capulet, come with me. Madam Montague, I’ll deal with your stupid ass this afternoon.  
. [Exit except for Madam Montague, Lady Montague, and Benvolia]  
. Madam Montague: Alright, who started it? You there, you look like a snitch, tell me.  
Benvolia: Your bitches were fighting the enemy’s bitches, and then I tried to stop it. But then that hotass- I mean hothead Tybalta came fucking ready to kill a bitch. So we fought and then more and more people joined in and then the princess came and the end.  
Lady Montague: Alright whatever, have you seen my daughter? You know, Romea? I’m just glad she wasn’t here  
Benvolia: Umm…well I had a lot on my mind this morning so I went for a walk. I saw Romea walking by some stupid tree. So naturally I walk towards her, right? But then she literally ran into the woods. So she was ignoring me, so I ignored her, and that’s that.  
Madam Montague: Oh my god. She keeps going there, and crying and sighing and shit. Such a baby. She comes home when the sun rises and locks herself in her room and hides from the sun. She’s acting all emo and this can’t be good.  
Benvolia: Why?  
Madam Montague: I don’t know.  
Benvolia: Have you, like, asked her?  
Madam Montague: Of course! And we’ve had other people try too. But she just wants to be alone, and doesn’t want friends and this is all very unhealthy for a girl her age, you know. I wish we knew what was wrong, then we could fix it!  
. [Enter Romea]  
. Benvolia: Oh, here she comes! Go away; I’ll just pester her until she answers!  
Madam Montague: Good luck. (To her wife) Let’s blow this Popsicle stand babe.  
. [Exit Madam Montague and Lady Montague]  
. Benvolia: G’morning!  
Romea: Is it really that early?  
Benvolia: yeah, it’s like, nine.  
Romea: Time goes so slow when you’re sad. Was that my mom who just ran away?  
Benvolia: Yep…Soooo…Why are you sad?  
Romea: Well I’m not happy.  
Benvolia: You in love?  
Romea: No.  
Benvolia: Not in love?  
Romea: No. I got friend-zoned.  
Benvolia: Yeah, love sucks girl, I feel ya.  
Romea: What sucks is that love makes you do crazy things. Where should we eat? (sees blood) Oh my bitch on a stick! What happened? No, don’t tell me, I’ll guess. There was a fight, because of hate but more because of love! Oh sweet burning love! Oh the love of hate! Love is like that Hot and Cold Katy Perry song! Oh, Oh how it stings! Love is everything and Love is nothing! I love girls, but no one ever loves me back! Are-are you laughing?  
Benvolia: No, I’m crying dipshit.  
Romea:….why?  
Benvolia: Because you’re so fucking sad.  
Romea: No, I really can’t have this negativity right now. You see, I’m really sad, and you’re making me even sadder and we can’t have that. Love is so fucking ironic. It’s like chocking to death on your favorite food. Goodbye Benvolia, I am gone.  
Benvloia: Wait! I’ll come with, you can’t leave me hanging like this.  
Romea: I’m not myself right now.  
Benvolia: Just tell me who you love.  
Romea: You want me to bitch to you about my feelings?  
Benvloia: Don’t bitch, just tell me who it is.  
Romea: Fine. I love a woman.  
Benvolia: Kinda guessed that when you said you were in love.  
Romea: Then you were right. And she’s beautiful.  
Benvolia: Better get her soon, or some other chick will snag her.  
Romea: That’s where you’re wrong. She is such a prude. Like, level 9000 virgin type. She won’t date anyone, let alone me. Such a shame though, when she dies so does her beauty.  
Benvolia: Has she vowed to be a virgin forever?  
Romea: Yes. And that sucks, because like, she’ll never have kids so her beauty wont ever be passed down ever.  
Benvolia: Just forget about her.  
Romea: How?  
Benvolia: Check out some other chicks.  
Romea: No, she is the hottest girl ever to live ever. I can’t forget her.  
Benvolia: I’ll show you to forget or die trying.


	3. Act One Scene Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back bitches

[Madam Capulet enters with County Paris, followed by Petra (the cleaning lady)]

MC: [continuing a convo] Listen- that slut Montague sweared on the same dusty old bible I did, someone needs to spank her ass just as hard! I just think reasonable old adults like us should be able to keep the peace, yo.

Pa: Yeeeaaaah, it’s such a shame you’re both so amazing and shit, sucks that you can’t get along. Anyway, about that favor I asked…

MC: Oh my fucking god, stop making me repeat myself, she’s like, twelve. Hop off my ass for like a few years and then we can talk about marriage, shit.

Pa: Hey, all I’m saying is that younger girls than her get hitched all the time…

MC: Yeah, and that’s kinda fucked. But you know what, I’ve had a stressful day and I can tell you’re gonna keep bitching about this. Go ahead, blast a boombox outside of her window, I don’t care. My opinion isn’t that important, she’s her own person, she can make decisions. I’m just here to give the A-Okay and pay for an expensive wedding. Tonight I’m throwing our annual Fuck-Fest mixer, all my squad is coming it’ll be a great time, I’ll tell the bouncer to let you in. My cribs gonna be fuckin’ turnt tonight, get ready to trip balls. There’s gonna be some fresh AF hunies there, play the field, sleep with a couple of them. After sleeping with all them girls you prolly won’t even remember my daughter. Anyway, come on.

[to Petra] Hey, bitch-girl, here’s the list of everyone invited, go moped around town or whatever and tell ‘em to show the fuck up.

MC and Pa exit

Pe: Find the names on this list? Fuck. Well why don’t you go tell a football player to commence congress, or a toddler to build a god damn office building! She knows I can’t fucking read, how the shit am I ‘sposed to find these sluts? Shit, I need to outsource and I need to outsource right fucking now. Oh- Yassss, here come my bitchesss!!

Benvolia and Romea enter

B: [to Romea] No trust me, my logic is flawless. You can put out one fire by starting another- wait, no hear me out- the new pain will distract from the old pain. Get it? It’s the same logic that you use when you try to make yourself less dizzy by spinning the other way; foolproof. If you get another girl to break your heart, you’ll forget about this one. Solve this hopeless crush, by getting a new hopeless crush

R: Plantain leaves are great for that…

B: What the god loving fuck are you talking about?

R: You know, for when you cut your shin

B: That is not at all what we were talking about

R: I’m not crazy I swear, But girl, I’m tied tighter than a straitjacket. I’m fucking being waterboarded by Trump. I’m whipped like those sad elephants in that shitty circus show- oh, Hey girl, what’s good

P: Yeah, good evening or whatever, but um- the thing is- um, well… Can you read? Maybe? Please?

R: I can read the sad poetry sadness has stabbed into my sad heart

P: ………. Okay… um that’s nice but doesn’t really help me.. Um, how about like, irl and shit, can you read that.

R: If you’re implying I don’t know my ABC’s I’m kinda offended.

P: Yeah okay I can see I’m wasting my time, see you later

R: Wait bitch get back here, of course I can read! [snatches letter]  
“Signora Martino and her slut family,  
Countess Anselme and her smokin hot sisters,  
Vitruvio’s widow,  
Signor Placentio and those cute-ass nieces of hers,  
Mercutia and her sister Valentine,  
My bitch aunt Capulet and that dumbass family,  
The lovely Rosaline and Livia,  
Signora Valentia and her cousin Tybalta,  
Lucia and the annoying Helena”  
Wow, what a squad. Where’s the party at?

P: Up

R: What? Be more vague please.

P: To the house

R: You are goddamn impossible, whose house?

P: My bosses

R: Are you goddamn shitting me right now? Do you really wanna do this? Do you really wanna hear me ask who the fuck your boss is?

P: Hmmm, nah, I’m done I’ll tell you. My boss is the baddest bitch around, Madam Capulet. Oh, thanks b-t-dubs, if you wanna swing by the party later and get shitfaced feel free to, I mean, as long as you're not a dirty fucking Montague. Peace!

Petra exits

B: Okay, listen, remember what I said before? About the fire and shit? Here’s what you have to do, go to the party. You’re moon goddess Rosaline will be there, all you gotta do is sleep with a couple other girls I point out. P soon that beautiful broad will be nothing but an ugly bitch in your eyes.

R: Benvolia, if I ever say that another girl is hotter than Rosaline please light my body on fire and throw it into a lake of gasoline, because that’s just such an obvious fucking lie. There is no one -no one- more hot than her. Not even the fucking sun Benvolia.

B: I don’t know girl… still think your logic is flawed… you first found her hot when no one else is around. If she’s the only girl of course she’s a 10. Just like my cousin Mary is, like, an 8 alone, but put her next to anyone else and she’s a solid 4. You gotta look at this girl objectively my pal. 

R: Fine… I’ll go. But not because you want me to. I’m going because it’s an independent decision that I made my myself with my own brain.


	4. Act One Scene Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MORE

[Lady Capulet and the Nurse enter]

LC: Ey yo, Nurse! Where the fuck is my daughter? Why is she not in my eye view at this very second?

N: Madam I swear by my virgin twelve year old vagina that I have no fucking clue. I told the bitch to come up here. Juliet! Get your pretty little ass up here!!

[Juliet enters]

J: Who the shit is yelling for me oh my god?!

N: Yo mama

J: Well I’m here now, so what?

LC: Oh, I’ll tell you what, Nurse? Get the fuck out. Don’t you know anything about privacy god. Wait no- Nurse- get back here I just remembered I trust you. Whoops, got a bit aggressive there sorry. But you know how young she is.

N: Yeah, I raised her, I know her age down to the fucking second Madam.

LC: She’s not even 14

N: What did I just say, what did I just fucking say. I know. Fuck. When’s Lammastide.

LC: Like two weeks-ish

N: Yeah, two weeks, three days, eight hours, and fifteen minutes. On Lammas eve, she’ll be 14. I raised her sorry ass. Her and my little Susan - lord help her baby soul - were born on the same day. And well, like, she’s dead and shit. Too good for this world.. But anyway, yeah, Lammas eve. 14. Your daughter. My mind is a fucking steel trap madam. It’s been eleven long years since the earthquake. She stopped sucking on my tit that day. Never forget. It was fucking hilarious, really. I put this gross tasting shit on my nip when we were sitting outside. Oh yeah! You and the Madam were fucking shit up on vacation in Mantua, damn I’m good. But the story, yeah. So when she tasted the shit on my nip she threw a huge fucking bitch fit, I swear she tried to right hook my boob. Yeah, then a fucking earthquake hit. That sucked. But yeah, that was eleven years ago. She could stand then you know. I swear, I mean, she was still fucking dumb, but she could walk. She cut her forehead the night before. My wife- oh shit she’s dead too wow - she was the best… she picked little Julie up and was all like “Did you fall on your face, dipshit? You gotta fall on the ass, Julie, it breaks the fall.” and I shit you not, Juliet was all “Ya.” Fuck I laughed so much. SHe just fucking answered the question, like, a little three year old, answering a question like a goddamn person. Fuck, gets me every time. 

LC: Why are you still talking, shut the fuck up slut.

N: Okay yeah, I will. But- oh fuck- you had to be there it was hilarious. My wife was all “blah blah blah” and that little twerp looked her straight in the eye and was all “Ya.” God, fuck, I can’t stop laughing.

J: Okay, no, really. Shut the fuck up.

N: Okay, okay. I’m done. WHEW! Wow. But seriously, you were a chill kid. Can’t wait till you get married, doll.

LC: Oooookaaayyy. Now that that’s done, yeah. Marriage. Juliet, in your opinion marraige? Yes? No? Maybe so?

J: Fuck no

N: Wow rude. 

LC: Well sucks to be you then. You gotta start thinking about marriage. There are shit tons of girls younger than you, hot girls mind you, who are fucking teen moms. Babycakes, hate to say it, but you’re behind the crow on this one. Hell, I was knocked up at your age. But here you sit, a lame ass virgin. You know what, fuck it. Paris said she wanted to marry you.

N: What a catch, doll. She’s the bomb. Really, and not like some little TNT bomb. Nah, Paris is the ‘Little Boy’ of hot chicks.

LC: No finer flower in Verona than Paris.

N: Or a flower. I mean my bomb analogy was pretty sick and also referenced an important historical event but sure, just say flower and take all the aesthetic credit. Fine.

LC: [To Juliet] What do you think? Think you could love a Nuclear bomb little girl? She’ll be at the mixer tonight. Study the shit outta her face. Soak in how hot she is. Fucking graph the parabolas of her tits, beauty is math bitch. If all else fails, stare into her eyes. She is single, and want to mingle. With you. She wants to marry you. You’re hot, she’s hot. It’s perfect. Lots of people think she’s beautiful, and will admire whoever she marries. That’s you bitch. Low risk, high return. Get ready, stay ready.

N: Low risk, high return? Fuck yeah, high return as in high stomach, because you’ll be pregnant, and when you’re pregnant your stomach gets...high...it sounded better in my head shit

LC: [To Juliet] So? Yes? No? Love?

J: I guesssss. If I have to. But no promises.

Petra enters

P: Lady, your squad is here. Food is out, people are getting turnt. Juliet, yo friends wanna see your cute face, and Nurse- what the fuck are you doing out of the kitchen, shit’s hit the fan in there. 

LC: Well, Juliet, lead the way babycakes.

N: Don’t fuck on the first date!

All exit


	5. Act One Scene Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> queen mab muthafuckas

[Romea, Mercutia, and Benvolia enter all dressed as Erik, the phantom from Phantom of the Opera. Also with like six other girls carrying flashlights and drums.]

R: Shit there’s a bouncer, what do we say to be let in? Should we just break in?

B: It’s not cool to try to talk your way into a bar… or a party. And we’re cool. We’re cool girls, Romea. We’re not going to dress up as fucking Cupid and scare the shit outta the fine AF hunies. We’re also not gonna come up with some crazy farfetched reason to be let in. No. We’re going to just walk in, dazzle them with our fresh dance moves, and get the fuck outta there before the fuzz arrive.

R: Give me a flashlight. I hate dancing. And I’m sad. And life sucks. Just let me carry the light.

M: Baby girl no, you gotta dance.

R: I don’t have to do fucking anything Mercutia. I know you put your big girl dancing shoes on tonight, but my sad, sad soul is just so heavy with all my fucking sad sadness that I can barely move my cute little sad feet. 

M: Come on, you're a lover! Steal Cupids wings for the night and fly.

R: Okay, first of all: we already said no Cupid bullshit. Second of all, yeah, I am a lover. And right now, love sucks. I’m love hurt, and love sick, and love fucked. SO excuse me for not wanting to do a little gay jig with you.

M: You’re really hurting my perception of love right now. That’s not cool, love is fucking soft and tender, leave it alone.

R: No, love is not. Ever heard of roses? Ya, they’re pretty, but they hurt like a motherfucker if you get the thorns. That’s love. 

M: Omg, you need to get laid like right now you’re really harshing my vibes- fuck girl. [pulls down phantom mask, others do as well]

B: well, besides all that, let’s go in. I’m ready to do shots until I puke.

R: I’m serious, will someone just give me a flashlight? You guys go in and dance. There’s a saying ‘you can’t lose if you don’t play’, that’s my mantra tonight. But whatever. You guys have fun, I’ll just go brood in the corner or some shit. 

M: No, I’m not letting that happen. If I’m getting laid tonight, all my friends are getting laid tonight. And baby, no offense, but you have a huge stick up your ass, and it’s called love. Let me just get in there, take the stick out. Come on, let me touch your ass.

R: Mercutia, don’t put your hands anywhere near my-

M: Ugh! It’s just a fucking saying! Fuck! We’re wasting time. Use that pretty little head of yours for more than just brooding. It’s called common sense, girl. Don’t try to be cute with me.

R: I know we mean well by going to a party where all guest are required to dress up as Erik from Phantom of the Opera, but’s it’s not safe.

M: What? Why- why do you keep doing that? Why do you keep changing the subject like that? What?

R: I had a dream last night

M: Okay fine, I guess this conversation is happening. I had a dream too.

R: What was it.

M: It told me that dreams are often just bullshit

R: Well my dream said dreams are the truth

M: Oh, so you’ve meet Mab, queen of the Prostitutes?

R: Who’s Queen Mab?

M: You know, Mab. She’s the midwife of the fairies. She can’t be bigger than that ugly ass rock of a diamond your momma wears on her hand. She’s got a tiny little Kia Sorento that runs on atomic fuel, she uses it to do donuts on the faces unsuspecting sleeping ladies. Her tires are made of reinforced spider silk. And she had the paint job done with her own mix of grasshopper blood. Her seats are lined with caterpillar fur and her headlights are made of moonbeams. The key is just a crooked beetle bone. She doesn’t even drive it herself, no. Her chauffeur is a direct copyright violation of Jiminy Cricket. She uses those pretentious all natural hazelnut car fresheners. She got the car from the second hand car dealership run by squirrells- they’ve been hooking slutty fairies up with cheap cars for, like, ever. So in this beautiful, fully mortgaged, car she drives around dreams and makes them dream of love. She drives through pimps minds and makes them dream about pimping. She drives into lawyers minds and, actually, she gives them nightmares, I don’t think she likes lawyers. But she does like lips, and she does like making people dream about making out. Sometimes she makes the pimps dream about making money but I think that’s mostly because she too, is a pimp. She’ll do this thing where she farts on a priest's nose and make them dream about sacrificial animals. Kinda fucked up. But then again, she’ll also drive over soldiers’ necks and make them dream about slicing the throats of their enemies and bathing in their blood, tearing down fortresses and spitting on the graves of the Spanish. They usually wake up from that because it’s fucking terrifying, but they say a prayer or two and go back to sleep. So, she’s fucked up. She’s the same Mab who sneaks up on horses and tangles their manes for shits and giggles. Oh god, this one’s actually funny- she’ll give virgins sex dreams, but make them totally inaccurate so they think that’s how it’s done omg. Oh, she also-!

R: Shut up! Shut up! What the fuck?! Just shut up! Are you high? I have no idea what the fuck you just said? Kia Sorento? What?

M: I’m talking about dreams, like you wanted. But oh, wait, Dreams aren’t fucking real. God, they’re fake, imaginary. Stupid. And I sure as hell don’t want to hear yours.

B: Thanks a lot, I bet we missed cocktail hour.

R: Oh calm your tits, you’ll get your booze in a minute. But I have a strange feeling that whatever happens tonight will be very bad. It will be very bad and possibly end with my own death, and the death of a select other few. But yeah, let’s go to the party. Onward!

B: Fuck yeah!

Exit all


	6. Act One Scene Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tried on prom dresses today, maybe ill just go to prom dressed as Erik the phantom for Phantom of the Opera

[Petra and other servers come forward with napkins]

P: Where’s Pothead? Why isn’t she helping us clear the table? She’s supposed to be clearing the plates wtf?!

Andrea: Well, when only one or two women are good mannered, and even they slut around, things are bad

P: I am not here for your philosophical bullshit right now. Someone needs to move the stools, and sideboards, and yes, the fucking plates. You, whore, save me some of that fun dip, and if you have a shred of love in your body you’ll let in Susan Grindstone and Nell for me. Andrea! Pothead!

Pothead: Yass mama, I’m here.

P: Where the fuck have you been get your ass back in the great chamber. 

Andrea: Shit, we can’t be in two places at once, calm down. Fuck, cheers girls. Whoever survives the night without being bitchslapped wins I guess.

[Petra and servers exit]

[Madam Capulet enters with her Cousin, Tybalta, Lady Capulet, Juliet, and some other hos. They meet Romea, Benvolia, Mercutia, and some other whores.]

MC: Welcome sluts! The hunies who aren’t fucking lame will dance with you. Lol, which of my girls will dance now. I swear, if any of you refuse you have to wear the dunce hat of lameness. Too close too home? Ha, but really. Welcome. God, there was a time when I could dress up as Erik the phantom from Phantom of the Opera and woo a chick just by whispering in her ear. Shit, those days are long gone. But you are welcome to try. Come on DJ, drop the bass! [bass drops and they all crunk, Romea sulks]. Make room on the dancefloor bitches! Get back to work [to servers]. Move bitch, got out the way! Flip the tables outta the way and take off all yo clothes ‘cause it’s getting hot in here!! [to her Cousin] Ah, baby girl, get shitfaced with me. No, no- sit down. Sit the fuck down girl. We’re too old to dance, but just old enough to do all these fucking shots, amiright? [Madam Capulet and Cousin sit]. Now when was the last time we dressed up as Erik the phantom from Phantom of the Opera at a mixer like this?

Cousin: Too fucking long, like thirty years

MC: Fuck, no. Not that long. Wasn’t Lucentia’s wedding Erik themed? That was like, twenty five years ago.

Cousin: You dumb bitch, Lucentia’s daughter is like, thirty something. And she was born after the wedding. 

MC: You really wanna go there with me? No, that dumb bitch was a minor like two years ago.

Romea: [to server] Who’s that chick over there, hanging on the arm of that pretty ass beefcake?

Server: No fucking clue.

R: Fuck, she shines brighter than a hundred watt eco friendly light bulb. She stands out like bleach blonde hair against fake New Jersey spray tans. She’s a beautiful cinnamonroll too good for this world. Too pure. Too hot to die. She outshines the other chicks like a McDonald's on a highway of Burger Kings. Shit, once the bass drops again, I’m gonna take her beautiful hand with my own ugly mitt. Fuck fuck fuck, forget everything I said before, this is love. I guess my eyes did lie to me because she is so much hotter than anyone else ever. 

Tybalta: [to her page] I can tell by her stupid fucking analogies that she’s a Montague. Get my Soul Eater keyblade, bitch- what, does this slut think she can just waltz into our mizer and fuck shit up? Well she can’t, and that’s really shitty of her, this is gonna be a murder but not a crime. 

MC: Whoa, whoa, heel girl. What’s got your panties in a knot? 

T: Auntie, that whore is a Montague- our sworn ass enemy. She’s a bitch and she came here to make fun of us.

MC: Is it Romea?

T: Of course it’s fucking Romea!

MC: Calm your tits, wow. Don’t start any drama. Who even care. She’s chill, everyone in Verona knows she’s chill. She’s not gonna fuck anything up. I’m not gonna allow this, you couldn’t pay me enough to get me to insult her right now. So, take all this sass I’m getting, and put it in your pocket. Don’t start anything. Hey, hey- look at me. Don’t start anything. Now turn that frown upside down and go get wasted.

T: I can’t just ignore her, she can’t be here! I’m not gonna stand for that shit.

MC: Then fucking sit, doll face. You know why? Because I fucking say so. Who’s the boss here, huh? I’m the boss. God help me Tybalta, I love you, but if you start drama at my mixer I will not hesitate to put all your bras in the freezer. 

T: But-!

MC: Bitch, you are crossing the line. You see this, this is the line, and here’s you, fucking stepping over it. Pack up your shit, and catch an express train back over the line. [to the guests] Fuck yeah! Let’s party! [to Tybalta] don’t fuck this up for me you little slut [to servers] More jello shots! [to Tybalta] I got my fucking eye on you bitch. [To the guests] Who want’s a lap dance? Whoo!!

[Bass drops and everyone dabs]

T: My body is 80% anger and 20% sluttiness I can’t fucking take this. I’ve gotta get some air, but the second Romea steps outta line she is gonna be hit so fucking hard.

[Tybalta exits]

R: [taking Juliet’s hand] Your hand is softer than a kitten on a cloud. Oh sorry, if you don’t want my hand to touch you, my lips are right here, like some shy ass pilgrims, ready to kiss all your troubles away.

J: Well, my pilgrim, you don’t give your hands enough credit. It’s cute that you’re holding my hand, polite. Pilgrims used to touch the hands of statues, I think. Here, if you hold your palm against mine- that was their kiss.

R: Pilgrims had lips too…

J: Yeah, lips they used for prayer.

R: Okay, pilgrim expert, let’s use our lips as hands. Baby, I’m praying for you to kiss me. Please make my wish come true.

J: Why don’t you grant your own wishes?

R: Oh, with your permission I will

[they kiss]

Ah, all my sins are cured by your saintly lips.

J: Ha, then are my lips now covered with your sins?

R: Fuck you’re right. Here, let me take them back.

[they kiss again]

J: Fuck you’re a good kisser.

Nurse: /cough/ um, whew, Miss? Yo momma want to talk to you

[Juliet moves away]

R: Who’s her momma

N: Huh? Bitch, her mom is the lady throwing this dumb ass mixer. She has charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent out the wazoo. That was her daughter, I fucking raised her. But lemme tell you, the bitch who marries her is gonna be rolling in benjamins. 

R: [to herself] FUCK. SHit, damn, fuck. Abort mission, abort mission! She’s a Capulet, goddammit! Fuck! My heart belongs to the enemy, shit! 

Benvolia: [to Romea] Ey yo! Girlfriend! Let’s split, the party’s getting out of hand, someone’s gonna call the fuzz soon.

R: I’m in deep shit.

MC: Nooo! Girls, don’t leave yet! We’re gonna have dessert soon! [they whisper in her ear that the neighbor called the cops] Oh, shit. Is that so? Well, fuck, thanks for coming I guess. Night, bitch! Get me a flashlight! Come on, let’s crash. [to her Cousin] Ah, girlfriend, it’s so fucking late. I’m going to just pass the fuck out. 

[everyone except Juliet and Nurse exit]

J: Nurse, come over here. Who’s that chick.

N: That’s the daughter and heir of Tiberia

J: Okay, okay. And that bitch by the door?

N: Um, shit, I think that’s Petruchia? Maybe?

J: Fine, whatever, I didn’t actually care about those two. Who’s that really pretty one over there, the one who didn’t dance?

N: I don’t know.

J: Then go fucking ask [nurse leaves] Fuck, if she’s married I swear I’ll shit a brick. 

N: [returns] Her name’s Romea. She’s a Montague. She’s the daughter of your worst enemy. 

J: [to herself] What the bitch on a stick why is the only girl I love the daughter of the only bitch I hate? Who the fuck lets that happen? Shit! If I knew I wouldn’t’ve flirted with her! Life isn’t fucking fair.

N: What? Stop mumbling what are you saying?

J: Just reciting my favorite rap. Biggie for life, yo. 

[someone calls “Juliet!” from offstage]

N: God, no one has any patience these days. Whatever, let’s go all the sluts are gone anyway. 

[they exit]


	7. Act Two Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> idk if the chorus is more than one person, it usually is on stage but it's like a hive mind deal?? idfk. i used singular pronouns

[chorus enters]

Chorus: Okay, so here’s a rundown of exactly what the shit just happened. So Romea, you remember Romea, her old heartache is going away. Turns out Benvolia’s dumbass fire logic worked. Romea is a fucking hypocrite though. Before she was all bitchy about that prude Rosaline, and was all like ready to die for her and shit. But once she saw Juliet I guess all that BS went out the window. This time at least the feeling is mutual, even if both of them just fell in love with how hot the other is and haven’t even had a full conversation but whatever. But, oh no! Looks like Romea managed to fall for literally the only chick in Verona who’s off limits- the daughter of her enemy. And that dumb bitch fell in love right back! What are they gonna do? Romea can’t even take Juliet on a fucking date or even say ‘Hello’ to her. And Juliet can’t even take a shit without her mother knowing. That’s the Power of love though. Keeping idiots in dangerous situations since the beginning of fucking time.

[chorus exits]


	8. Act Two Scene One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> im so tired

[Romea enters alone]

R: Shit, how can I leave when I left my heart back there? Gotta go back.

[Romea moves away, Benvolia and Mercutia enter]

B: Romea! Girl! Romea! Romea!

M: Nah, she’s a smart girl, I bet she left early to go sleep off her hangover.

B: No, she’s a dumb piece of shit. She jumped over the fence. Just- just yell for her Mercutia, I am so done right now.

M: Sure, yeah, I’ll fucking conjure her up like we’re at a fucking seance. Romea! Crazy Bitch! Player! Lover Girl! Show yourself you fiend! Yell a riddle or some shit! Come on, indulge me. Just say something like, “Mercutia is the best” or “Love is a stupid concept”. Come on, I’ve got fucking Venus on the phone over here. Do some shitty Cupid bullshit come on! Fuck- Romea doesn’t hear me. She must be dead there’s no other reason to ignore me. Too bad I don’t know when to stop- Romea! I summon you in the Name of Rosaline! By her shitty unblended eyeshadow, and her awkwardly large forehead, and her vintage red lipstick, and her huge feet, and ugly legs, and her thighs, and her sweet, sweet lady regions. In that name of all that fucking shit, I summon you! Come out and show us your final form!

B: God fucking dammit. If she heard any of that you’re dead.

M: What? No. She loves me, she wouldn’t get mad at that. Now, if I summoned a sexy ghost to fuck her- that would make her angry. I’m just speaking the truth here.

B: Why are all my friends such asses. Ugh, whatever. She’s probably hiding under those trees. Let her act like a bitch I don’t care.

M: Fuck yeah she’s a bitch. She’s probably sitting under one of those medlar trees, you know with the fruit that looks like pussy? Oh, shit, get this. I bet Romea wishes that chick was that fruit and she was a Popperin pear so she could “pop” her in. Get it? Get it? Don’t give me that look, we can’t all be spitting out A+ material all the time god. It’s too cold out here, I wanna go inside. [to Benvolia] Ready?

B: I kinda stopped listening to you but we should go back inside, it’s too cold. If Romea wants to freeze her ass off, let her.


	9. Act Two Scene Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soooo tired

[Romea returns]

R: Fuck her, it’s easy to joke about pain you haven’t felt.

[Juliet enters on the balcony]

Wait, what the shit is that over there. Holy fucking shit it’s her. Dayum girl, it’s night but you’re brighter than the sun. Rise up, baby sunshine, fucking stab the bitch moon in the face. Fuck girl, the moon is all sick and gross with envy because you, her humble little fuck, has all those luscious curves. Don’t bother with her, she’s just jelly. But shit, virginity looks horrible on you. Only fucking idiots and prudes are virgins, let me take care of that for you, girl. But oh fuck, there she is. Damn, that’s my love. How do I tell her how much I love her? I think she’s talking now? Idk, I can’t hear her. But those eyes, damn, they’re saying something nasty. I’ll answer those eyes, I’m too bold for my own good. But fuck, she’s not talking to me. I hate that look at me. Her eyes are so bright it’s like they’re filling in for two stars that are on vacation. What if her eyes were in the sky and there were stars in her head? Shit I think the punch was spiked… but really, those pink ass cheeks would outshine those stars, just like the sun outshines like, fucking everything. So bright that birds scream at her in the night because they think it’s daytime, that bright. Fuuuccckkkk, look how she leans on her hand. I would pay literally anything just for a chance that maybe I might get to be her glove and touch that sweet little face.

J: Fucking shit! 

R: [to herself] She speaks! Do it again, do it again! She’s like a fucking angel, all glowy and shit. Not the bible angels with all the eyes and body horror, no, like Marilyn Monroe type angels. The kind that make dirty old women try to take upskirt pics of school girls. It’s fucked up how hot they are. That’s the kind of angel Juliet is.

J: [not knowing Romea hears her] Oh, Romea, Romea. Why the actual fuck do you have to be Romea. God, just like, stop it. Stop having that stupid ass last name. Or well, I guess I could change my name. If you say you love me I’ll do fucking anything. Fuck being a Capulet.

R: [to herself] I have never been more turned on in my life. 

J: [still not aware of Romea] I mean, it’s only your cockshitting last name that’s my enemy anyway. You’d still be hot as hell if you weren’t a Montague. What the shit even is a Montague. It’s not anything, it just sounds dumb. It just sounds dumb and sucks who needs that? Ah! Just be literally anything else! Like a rose, if we called roses fucking typewriters they’d still smell good, names are fake anyway. Romea would be just as perfect if her name was Typewriter. Yeah. Romea, lose your name, just chuck it in the trash. Or like, trade it for me. 

R: [to Juliet] YES! Yes, fuck yeah, I’ll do that. I trust you. Please, just love me and yeah, call me Typewriter I don’t care. I’m so thirsty, fuck. Just- just fuck me up already. Consider the name Romea fucking incinerated. 

J: Fuck me with a chainsaw! WHat?! Who the fuck-! Why the fuck-! What?! Who’s there? Who the fuck is listening to me that shit was private!

R: Okay, I’ll be honest, you got me in a tight spot here. I don’t know how to answer that I literally just incinerated my name for you. Like, it’s fucking gone. If I had any paper I would write my name down, and then light that piece of paper on fire. Like fuck girl.

J: Wait- I’d know that sultry voice anywhere. Is that Romea? Are you really a Montague?

R: Listen, baby, I’ll be anything you want me to be.

J: How’d you even get in here? Wait- why are you here? The fences are like some Trump level shit, how the fuck did you get past that? Shit, if anyone sees you you’re dead.

R: You do not yet understand how thirsty I am. Those walls were fucking nothing. When I’m in love, God herself has to watch her back because I will stop at literally nothing until I reach my Honey. I am the danger. Your little walls are no obstacle to my pathetic desperation.

J: I’m serious, when I say you’re dead, I literally mean they’ll murder you.

R: Baby, the only thing that can hurt me is you. As long as you love me I’m good.

J: Okay, that sounds fake. But is also pretty cute. I wish I could hide you or some shit though…

R: It’s dark, I’m fine. But really, if you don’t love me I hope they find me. I’d rather die than not have your love. I’m fucking serious. If you don’t love me just take out your keyblade and stab my broken as shit heart, please.

J: Who told you how to get here.

R: Love. Weren’t you listening. I’m a thirsty ass ho; I have my ways. And also, doll, I’m no sailor, but if you lived across the sea I’d literally risk everything to get to you.

J: You’re fucking lucky it’s dark out. ‘Cause if it wasn’t you’d see just how much I’m blushing from all your shitty pick-up lines. You know, usually I’d act all coy and pretend I didn’t just make a fucking fool of myself. But I’m tired and fuck manners. I’ll be blunt; Do you love me? I swear to god I know you’ll say ‘yes’, and I know my sorry ass will believe you. But if you say you do, and you’re lying, I’m gonna be so fucking mad. You know Zeus? The goddess who cheats on her wife all the time? They say she fucking laughs when people lie about love. Romea, if you love me, please just say it. Wait- fuck shit, am I being too easy? Fuck girls don’t like that. Here, I’ll do my best Roberta De Niro face and pretend I don’t love you for a hot second. Will that make you try to woo me? If it won’t I won’t do it because I’m actually pretty shit at De Niro impressions. Bitch on a stick, Montague, I’ll be straight with you: I like you a whole shitting lot. Like, it’s gross how much I like you. And honestly, I’m super embarrassed you heard me say all that shit. But I promise I’d make a good wife. Ten times better than any slut you can find on the street guaranteed. Maybe I should’ve come on a little less strong I admit, but hey, you already heard me pour my heart out when I thought no one was listening so excuse me if I wanna know if your love is the real deal.

R: Baby girl, I swear by the moon and the stars, by the moon that paints-

J: Stop that shit right now, don’t you fucking swear by the moon. I’ve seen that shit, the moon changes all the fucking time how would I know that your supposed love wouldn’t be the same?

R: Okay, chill, what should I swear to then?

J: Just don’t, dipshit. Or if you have to, swear by those sweet ass abs of yours, because lord knows those are forever.

R: Alright-

J: No, I change my mind. Although this is great and all, it’s prolly not a good idea. Tonight’s been kinda fucked. This is too fast. Like lightning, it’s there and then it’s gone before you can even say “Holy shit it’s lighting, honey get the kids inside, it’s starting.” I don’t wanna be lighting. So, honeybunny, good night. Our love is a half toasted pop tart right now, hopefully the next time we meet it’ll be fully toasted. Hope you sleep well.

R: What the fuck, you’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

J: Well, what the shit do you want me to do? My hands are kinda tied here.

R: I don’t know, maybe say you love me instead of rambling for an hour about playing hard to get?

J: I already said that, I wish I could take it back to say it again, but that’s not how words work.

R: Why would you take it back?

J: You’re kinda slow, aren't ya? I’d take it back to give it to you again. I love you. And the more I love you, the more love I have to give you. It’s a circle of Love. Much better than that shitty circle of life.

[Nurse calls from offstage]

Shit, my Nurse. Fuck, um, good night, I guess. Keep that cute caboose right there, Montague, I’ll be right back.

[Juliet exits]

R: If this turns out to be just a dream I’m going to commit mass homicide I’m not even joking.

[Juliet enters again]

J: Three words, Romea, and then I’m cutting you off. If you really do have good intentions, and want to make an honest woman out of me, marry me. Send me a cake tomorrow. I’ll send some bitch server to find you, and you can pass a cake that details where and when we’ll be married. I’ll only accept chocolate cake with vanilla icing. But fuck, I’d follow you all over the world. 

Nurse: [offstage] Miss! 

J: [to Nurse] Will you wait a goddamn second! [to Romea] But if your intentions are dirty I will fuck you with a rusty knife-

N: [offstage] Miss! Fuck!

J: I’m coming you menopausal monster! [to Romea] I’ll fuck you with a rusty knife and then cry for a thousand years. I’ll send the messenger tomorrow.

R: My soul depends on it-

J: Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.

[Juliet exits]

R: Hate to see you go, But I love to watch you leave. Dammit, I go to her as enthusiastically as a middle schooler avoids homework. And I leave her as miserable as a middle schooler walks to class. 

[Romea starts to leave, Juliet enters yet again]

J: Cacaw, Romea! Cacaw! Fuck, I wish I could make a falcon sound so I could call my little falcon back. She’d know that she’s the falcon, right? But no, I have to be stuck in this prison of a house with my horrible family. Shit, I’d go to Echo’s cave and make her repeat Romea’s name until she dies.

R: My baby is calling for me. I have never heard anything sweeter than that girl trying, and failing, to make a falcon noise.

J: Romea!

R: My baby bird?

J: I forgot, what time tomorrow?

R: I usually go to the gym in the morning, so send her about nine-ish.

J: That’s so far away, I can’t wait that long. Shit, I forgot why I came back out here.

R: I’ll wait until you remember

J: I’ll just forget it, and you’ll have to stand there until the fat lady sings. I do remember how much I love looking at your pretty face though.

R: Heh, well then I guess I have to stay here forever. Make this my new home.

J: Shit stop being cute, it’s almost morning. You have to leave, but fuck I don’t want you to go. You’re like that one bra that clearly has run it’s course, but is too pretty to throw away.

R: I wish I could be your bras. Get to touch those sweet titties.

J: I wish you were too. But I’d kill you, sweetheart in the streets, freak in the sheets. I really don’t want to, but good night. I’ll count the seconds to tomorrow.

R: Sleep well my princess. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I know a gal who could hook us up with some sweet marriage papers.


	10. Act Two Scene Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (opo)

[Sister Lauren enters by herself, carrying a basket]

SL: The smiling Gerber Baby of sunshine has been replaced by the grumpy old moon. Darkness is tumbling out of the way like a raccoon at a bachelorette party. But before creepy baby sun comes back I gotta fill this little basket here full of all sorts of poisonous flowers. The Earth is as much a grave as it is a home. What is born from the Earth must one day perish and return to her rustic embrace. Mother Earth births many wonderful beings, and she provides many less wonderful beings for her favorites to prey upon. Herbs, plants, and stones hold the most power. There is nothing so evil that isn’t also useful. And there is nothing that can’t be turned evil by the wrong hands. And so vice becomes virtue, and virtue becomes vice.

[Romea enters]

Inside this little flower is a power unknown to woman. A poison so potent that death feels like sleep. By smelling it you get high, but by tasting it you die. There are two opposites in everything: the humble good, and the intoxicating evil… when evil is dominant, death will always prevail.

R: Hey, I hate to interrupt your honestly terrifying monologue, but good morning.

SL: I didn’t know you were there, that makes it a soliloquy, but good morning all the same. What are you doing up so early? Are you sick? Is it an STD? I don’t sleep because I am eternally plagued by worry that I will one day wake up and realize that my life amounted to nothing; but you’re too young to think that yet. Young people need sleep, so something must be really wrong with you. Romea, have you not slept tonight?

R: Winner winner, chicken dinner. I did something better than sleep 

SL: May the immortal devil possess your soul- did you have sex with Rosaline you fiend?

R: What? No- not everything good is sex, wow. I’ve already forgotten that bitch, moved onto better things and better places.

SL: ...okay...that sounds fake...but good on you I guess…

R: Kinda offended by the lack of faith but whatever. Okay, so I crashed my enemy’s mixer last night right? And suddenly, BOOM. Me and this chick just fucking fall in love. That’s where you come in-

SL: Romea, summarize, please.

R: Fine, geez. I’m in love with Capulet’s daughter. I love her and she loves me and we’re gonna get married and have a thousand babies. Like I said, that’s where you come in. You have to marry us, please, you gotta. I’ll explain more later, but really, fucking marry us.

SL: Holy Saint Francis, I lost sight of you for like three minutes and you go and get engaged. Literally yesterday you made me promise to curse any girl who so much as looked at Rosaline. Jesus H Christ, how make bottles of mascara did you waste crying over that girl? It’s not even today yet, like, the sun hasn’t even risen, God. My ears still hurt from listening to all your whining! Your lipstick is still smudged from when you tried to go all Pygmalion on my garden gnomes! You’re like the human equivalent of that Katy Perry Hot and Cold song! Jesus Mary and Joseph, girl! How do you expect girls to be faithful if you change your mind this much?

R: Umm, I seem to recall you lecturing me for hours yesterday on why I shouldn’t love Rosaline.

SL: I lectured you because you were obsessing, not in love.

R: Really? You told me to take my love and bury it in the graveyard. You said you’d perform last rites for my love.

SL: Exactly, I didn’t say bury that love and then immediately go find another, worse love.

R: Oh come on! There’s no fucking pleasing you! At least this one loves me back!

SL: Rosaline knew you were just pretending to know what love was, believe it or not, girls don’t like being objectified. But you know what, fine. I’m chaotic neutral enough to do this. I’ll help with your stupid secret wedding. Who knows, maybe it won’t end in several untimely deaths. 

R: Fuck yeah! Let’s go, I’m in a rush!

SL: Slow and steady wins the race, idiot. 

[they exit]


End file.
